


one touch is never enough

by burnthesocks



Series: old man and twink robot [16]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Getting Together, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Horny Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, literally he's so horny good for him, may i emphasize: HANDS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnthesocks/pseuds/burnthesocks
Summary: Connor has a fixation on Hank's hands and can't help himself when Hank's cooking.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: old man and twink robot [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858183
Comments: 11
Kudos: 108





	one touch is never enough

**Author's Note:**

> title is a lyric from the song 'one touch' by LCD Soundsystem.  
> just a side note, this took me almost two months.

Connor had a problem. And it wasn’t a software problem, either, but something inarguably worse. Ever since meeting the man, and  _ especially _ since being slammed against the wall, Connor had developed a certain fixation on Hank Anderson’s large, strong hands. He often yearned to feel those hands on his body, inside of him wherever they could fit– or even if they couldn’t fit, he could  _ make  _ them fit, and that thought, in particular, made Connor shiver.

Connor had already developed romantic feelings for Hank, though he was unsure of what they were for a frustratingly long amount of time; he had little to no knowledge of what his feelings meant. He was fairly new to feeling things, after all, he  _ was _ only three months into his deviancy. Any touch from Hank– which was common, because Hank was fairly touchy with those he was friendly with– would make Connor almost literally short circuit, unbeknownst to Hank.

Although, sometimes Connor would consider Hank’s touches to be more than friendly, and it was nothing short of intoxicating. Hank would let his hand linger on the back of his neck for a little too long and surely feel the way Connor’s body heated up at the touch. He would let a pat to the shoulder become something more that caused Connor’s synthetic skin to melt away under his clothes where Hank touched.

Connor never quite knew how to tell Hank about any of these things, though, and his sexual attraction to Hank only made him even more unsure of what to do with these feelings. Part of him worried that if Hank found out, he would get upset with him, tell him he’s disgusting– it wouldn’t be the first time either, though Connor did take samples with his tongue, so he supposed it was fair– and kick him out of the house. So he never had acted on these feelings, despite almost doing so multiple times. Until a late February night, at least. 

Connor was eagerly watching Hank cook– which he didn't even know Hank could do– and just when Connor was thinking  _ this cannot be worse _ , he was inevitably proven wrong.

Connor, already packing a semi at the sight of Hank with an apron and messy hair, watched in horror as Hank dipped his pinky into the sauce he had been simmering. Hank sucked in a breath- presumably at the temperature of the sauce- and quickly popped the finger into his mouth. Connor watched helplessly from the couch, LED burning red, as Hank's tongue swirled around his pinky and didn't miss a single drop of the sauce. Connor longed to put his mouth on those fingers too, knowing he'd be a good boy and get them very clean for Hank. He squirmed where he sat on the couch, whining at the thought, and despite Hank's focus, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“The fuck?” Hank grumbled, turning to Connor, but the spike in Hank’s heart rate and minute pupil dilation didn’t slip past Connor. Connor, who kept constant track of Hank’s vitals, felt his cock twitch when he caught arousal symptoms.

“I’m sorry, Hank,” Connor apologized in a relatively neutral tone, though his voice was higher than intended. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“What, you didn’t mean to  _ moan _ on my fuckin’ couch?” Hank scoffed, and Connor’s LED was spinning yellow-red-yellow-red as he fought off errors.

“No,” Connor said a little too quickly, and a little too defensively. Hank raised his eyebrows, looking ultimately unconvinced. Connor’s gaze fixed on the sauce on Hank’s lips, his LED back to a dangerous red, cock hardening between his legs as his pre-construction software booted up unprompted.

“You, uh- You wanna help or somethin’?” Hank offered, looking at Connor with a face that Connor has learned to be his  _ analyzing _ face. Connor felt himself burning up under Hank’s watchful gaze. Hank’s pinky hovered just below his lip and Connor stared at it, perhaps for too long.

“Ah, yes, I would like to help,” Connor said with a distant look as a pre-construction of himself taking Hank’s fingers in his throat appeared at the forefront of his vision. Hank shifted where he stood.

“You comin’?” Hank asked, peering at Connor strangely. Connor’s first thought was  _ I wish _ , but he cleared his HUD and stood up awkwardly, avoiding brushing against his hardened cock. He did a poor job of hiding the tent in his sweatpants with Hank’s hoodie, and he prayed to whatever god he didn’t believe that Hank wouldn’t notice. He stood by Hank’s side and peered at the pot of sauce, though his mind was elsewhere and every sensor was overwhelmingly aware of Hank’s proximity.

“You okay, Connor? Your LED looks like a fuckin’ light show,” Hank asked in a low voice, tapping Connor’s LED for emphasis. The same pinky that was inside of the Lieutenant’s mouth. Connor’s LED went red and the skin peeled back where Hank touched, though it was entirely involuntary. Connor said nothing, though his artificial breath hitched when Hank leaned in, squinting at him in confusion.

“Alright, now I’m definitely confused,” Hank said decisively. “Something’s up.”

“I can assure you, I’m fine,” Connor insisted, but the way his words were strained immediately contradicted him.

“Connor,” Hank said quietly, and there was something about his tone that made Connor tense up. 

“Yes, Hank?” Connor asked, quite literally breathless. He noticed that and rebooted his simulated breathing, eyes following Hank’s hand reaching for the dials on the stove. Hank set the heat on the burner to low and Connor’s hand twitched with the sudden need to fidget.

“This isn’t about wanting to help me cook, is it?” Hank turned back to Connor and his eyes fixed on the red LED, and Connor knew he was figured out. Just when he was about to speak, Hank’s hand brushed against his thigh, and Connor realized just how close the two of them were. Connor’s hand spasmed, and Hank’s eyes widened.

“No, it’s not,” Connor whispered, suddenly unable to look Hank in his eyes and opted to look at the tile floor instead.

“What is it then?” Hank’s voice was rough, and Connor shivered. Hank’s hand, with visible hesitance, rose to Connor’s jaw and tipped his head up to make eye contact with Hank.

“Hank,” Connor whined, and he hardly had to zoom to see the dilation of Hank’s pupils. “Your hands.”

“My… hands?” Hank questioned, hand moving to gently caress Connor’s face. Connor couldn’t physically help himself anymore, his wrist snapping to keep Hank’s in place and tongue sliding across Hank’s palm. Connor maintained eye contact and the shift in Hank’s expression made his cock jump.

Connor’s vision was filled with analyses of Hank’s hand, from the soap he used to clean the dishes to traces of sauce, that Connor supposed he hadn’t licked clean after all, and he hesitantly cleared them. He pressed a kiss to Hank’s palm, watching as Hank’s face flushed.

“Yes. Your hands,” Connor confirmed, getting  _ way _ too much out of the way Hank’s hand felt on his face and– fuck– against his tongue.

“You…?” Hank trailed off, blinking at him in disbelief, and Connor nodded desperately. He needed to hear more than disbelief, having held in his feelings for so long and now preparing himself for the worst. 

“Fuck,” Hank gasped, and it was one of the last things Connor was expecting when Hank captured Connor’s mouth in a desperate kiss, hands grabbing anywhere they could reach. Connor let out an absolutely filthy moan at the feeling of Hank’s rough hands, now groping at the swell of his ass, and Connor ‘adapt to human unpredictability’ Detroit learned very quickly how to kiss. Connor reached to turn the oven off, and when his hand returned, Hank laced his fingers with Connor’s. It was a simple gesture, and one that didn’t exactly fit the mood that was set by Hank kissing him hungrily, but it made Connor’s thirium pump stutter, and his skin peeled back. His LED pulsed bright blue, squeezing Hank’s hand in his own and attempting to get impossibly closer. Hank pulled away, panting for breath.

“Connor, you’re so good,” Hank told him hurriedly and the sincerity in his rough voice almost startled Connor. The words were spoken as though Hank feared he’d never get to say them otherwise, and Connor didn’t like the thought of that.

“So are you,” Connor whispered, hoping Hank could tell just how much he meant it. He assumed Hank did because Hank looked genuinely on the verge of tears for a moment before bringing his hands back up to Connor’s face and kissing him again, more slowly this time. Connor sunk into him, arms winding around his neck and sensors hyper-focused on the hands caressing his face. They slowly made their way around the table, sauce be damned, and approached the hallway. Hank parted from the kiss and Connor opened his eyes and immediately found himself lost in Hank’s.

“What is it that you want, Connor?” Hank asked softly, thumb sliding across Connor’s cheek and making Connor’s shudder with need.

“Anything. Anything you’ll give me,” Connor told him honestly. His entire being ached with such need that, for once in his existence, he couldn’t think in specifics, just  _ Hank _ and  _ need _ .

“Everything, Connor, you have me,” Hank said, and it was then that Connor felt the length of Hank’s erection pressing into his leg. “You’ve had me since I saw you.” 

Connor grabbed one of Hank’s hands from his face and looked in his eyes.

“So we…?” Connor trailed off, eyes finishing his question by looking into the bedroom. Despite his usual bluntness, he found the words to be stuck in his throat. Hank nodded.

“Everything, Connor,” Hank repeated, and Connor couldn’t find any uncertainty in his face.

“Okay, just making sure,” Connor said, and Hank’s thumb rubbed across his lip. It took all of Connor’s processing power to not take the digit into his mouth.

“I know, baby,” Hank reassured him, and Connor whined at the nickname combined with the roughness in his voice.

“Need,” Connor uttered and led him into Hank’s bedroom by the hand he’d grabbed, Hank following with zero protests. Hank turned to ensure that the door clicked shut behind them and Connor made quick work of removing his hoodie. Because he couldn’t  _ not _ , he folded the article and placed it down gently when they reached the bed.

“You’re so cute,” Hank said, giving a fond little laugh. Connor felt his thirium pump stutter in his chest, smiling shyly at Hank before leaning back onto the bed. Hank climbed over him, tipping his chin up and giving him a quick kiss before pulling back and looking Connor over.

Hank’s eyes traveled over every freckle, every little detail on Connor’s body, and he licked his lips when he saw the unrelenting erection Connor had for over an hour at that point. Almost entirely untouched, it was starting to drive him crazy. Hank’s eyes were darkened with lust and Connor let out an honest-to-god groan, entirely involuntary, and his hips bucked up to accompany it.

“Oh, Connor,” Hank tutted, large fingers tracing along Connor’s sides far too lightly. Connor, who was hardly ticklish, gave a shaky breath and his entire body shivered. “Such a filthy little deviant.”

Hank emphasized the last word by pressing the pad of his index finger to the tip of Connor’s cock, which was still straining in Connor’s stolen sweatpants. Connor jolted like he’d been administered a shock and Hank was worried he’d done something wrong before Connor pulled him down by his hair and kissed him roughly. Hank wasn’t the only breathless one when they parted from each other.

“ _ Please _ do that again, Hank,” Connor begged and he could detect Hank’s heart rate spike at his pleading. He made note of that but all coherent thought was out of the window when Hank dragged his finger down Connor’s length, which twitched desperately against the fabric restraining it to no avail. Hank’s touch was still agonizingly soft, but it only made Connor even dizzier with want.

“Hank,” Connor mumbled, his hips rocking up again, and Connor looked on desperately as Hank took a moment to admire the view. “ _ Hank _ ,” Connor repeated, a little more insistently.

“You gotta tell me what it is you want, sweetheart,” Hank purred, continuing to run his hands down Connor’s body gently. Connor thought about it and there was one thing that made his cock twitch, Hank’s eyes darting towards the movement with interest.

“Just touch me,” Connor pleaded, needing to feel Hank’s hands on him where they were needed the most.

“Like how?” Hank said, and the android looked up at him.

“Just, uh,” Connor wasn’t able to maintain eye contact. “Anywhere. Please.”

“...Okay, but you gotta be more specific than that, Connor,” Hank said slowly. Connor felt even further embarrassed the more he had to explain.

“My, uhm,” Connor’s LED was a dull yellow and he took a deep breath and it helped him recalibrate; Despite not needing oxygen, he still found it grounding to do so. “Can I show you? I’m having trouble finding the words at the moment.”

“Aw, my little prototype is too horny to think?” Hank teased. Connor liked the way he said  _ my _ . He didn’t respond though, aside from a whimper and a nod, and Hank ran a hand through his hair. Connor suddenly noticed that Hank had far too many clothes on, leaning forward to tug at the shirt.

“Con…” Hank started, and Connor knew where it was going, so he kissed him to silence the words of self-deprecation that were surely about to leave Hank’s mouth. They only separated for Hank’s shirt to be pulled over his head and Connor was already too far gone to give a damn when Hank tossed it aside haphazardly. Hank seemed to shed some of his self-consciousness when he saw the way Connor was looking at him, pretty doe eyes dark and loving, and for that Connor was grateful.

When Hank put his hands back on Connor, the android bit back another embarrassing moan. Connor briefly wondered if Hank would ever know just how much he affected Connor, and it was only made worse by the way Hank’s touch was torturously soft. It was so unlike the tough and grizzled front that Hank kept up, something vulnerable and tender and something that Connor never thought he would see in the Lieutenant. Something he thought that Hank would never let him see. And that alone was so special, that it almost drove Connor to tears, along with the overwhelming sensation of Hank’s hands on his waist.

A finger dipped under Connor’s waistband and the android gave another full-body shiver, cock twitching quite noticeably through the thin fabric of his “borrowed” shorts. His LED flashed blue and red quickly, somewhat resembling lights on a police car.

“You okay, love?” Hank asked, though he didn’t stop tracing the pad of his index finger along Connor’s shaft.

“Yes,” Connor said breathlessly. He found himself insatiable, though. Always wanting more of Hank, more of his hands, and his cock- Oh, fuck, Connor had only just now remembered his cock in it’s seven and a half inch glory and very much tenting Hank’s boxer shorts. He reached up, entirely on impulse, and rubbed his palm against it. Hank let out a startled moan, hips jerking up to meet Connor’s hand. It was an action that was entirely involuntary and Connor loved being able to break Hank’s resolve entirely like this.

Hank’s hand trembled slightly as he took Connor fully in his hand; Connor soon found out why, scanning and finding that Hank was close to climax. He was too brainless to care, letting Hank quicken his pace with no protest and pushing down Hank’s boxers desperately. He wanted to get his hands on him, and get his hands on him he did, long, white fingers wrapping around the girth of Hank’s cock. Without the projected skin, the sensors on his fingertips were much more sensitive and Connor gasped. He matched Hank’s pace, stroking him hard and fast as he squirmed.

“Connor, I’m not gonna last with that fuckin’ hand on me,” Hank warned, likely finding it arduous as it was to not come in his hand.

“I don’t want you to,” Connor said in a low tone, though his voice shook as Hank worked him close to his own orgasm. “You can come for me, Hank.”

Permission seemed to be what Hank needed- something Connor was sure to explore further down the road- and Hank came in Connor’s hand with a strangled cry, painting white plastic with ropes of semen. It was enough to send Connor hurtling over the edge, even as Hank’s hand had stilled Connor let out a broken moan and his hips stuttered into Hank’s fist. It was a few minutes before either of them spoke, having cleaned the mess they made of each others’ hands and taken to cuddling instead of taking care of the pot of pasta sauce on the stove.

“We should probably, y’know,” Hank jabbed his thumb in the direction of the kitchen, though his movements were slow and Connor could easily detect that Hank was relaxed and likely did not want to move from their position. He seemed comfortable where he had nestled into Connor’s side and Connor found it too cute. It was comparable to how he wouldn’t want to move with Sumo laying over his legs, the sight of Hank comfortable and at ease was one Connor didn’t quite feel like giving up just yet.

“It can wait for a few minutes,” Connor decided for them, holding Hank closer and kissing his forehead. Hank shifted, only to lean in and kiss Connor. It was sweet, sweeter than their other kisses, and Connor kissed back just as tenderly.

Connor could definitely get used to this, and the sauce could definitely wait.

**Author's Note:**

> open ending lmao you guys can decide if they ever did take care of that sauce hank was making. thank you for reading, kudos & comments are very much appreciated and mean a lot to me <3


End file.
